


Picture Perfect

by skargasm



Series: Postcards [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Frottage, Hand Jobs, LJ Prompt, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 15:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2029950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The conclusion to the Postcards from the Edge series - this night had been nearly a year in coming...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picture Perfect

It was hot – almost painfully hot. Their skin was stuck together, sweat making their bodies glide slickly as they moved around. Derek’s mouth has been by turns hard and soft, kisses pressed all over Stiles’ body wherever could be reached before Derek leaned over him and once more took his mouth in a deep, long, passionate kiss. 

Stiles didn’t remember when they got into the lighthouse. Vaguely remembered the spiral staircase as he stumbled up ahead of Derek, trying to press his body back into eager hands whilst moving upwards towards their goal at the same time. His clothes were a distant memory but he didn’t care because he’s finally got his hands on Derek’s body. There were grass stains, mud, light scratches from trees that faded even as he stroked over them. His eyes were drawn constantly to Derek’s groin, the hard cock acting as a homing beacon for his hands because he needed to touch it, stroke it. The groan it dragged from Derek’s throat was almost reward enough – almost. But he didn’t let go – tilted his head to the side as directed whilst stroking and squeezing, learning shape, size, feel. 

“Derek-‘ He protested the movement away from him until he realised that Derek had been reaching for something from the bedside table, that he wasn’t pulling away from Stiles’ touch. He slid his hands down Derek’s back, feeling where the tattoo rested by memory, relishing the ripple of muscle as Derek reacted to his touch. A momentary hesitation before he allowed himself to slide both hands into the dip at the base of Derek’s spine before moving down to gently squeeze the cheeks of Derek’s ass. More flexing muscle, more panting sounds from Derek, biting kisses at his neck and throat that told him he was doing fine, that his pitiful arsenal of moves was more than sufficient for the man on top of him. 

“Stiles—“

“Uh huh?” He spread his legs, moaning loudly as Derek seemed to slide into place so easily. This was like a dance that his body knew even though he’d never really done it before. With Malia it had been awkward, his body too gangly, the situation too weirdly intense whilst detached for him to enjoy. This felt like he had thrown himself into something blind only to realise he saw better than anyone else. This—here, with Derek—this was so right it was almost too easy.

“Want you—“

“Oh yeah, want you too!” 

“I mean—do you want or should—“

“OH! Yeah, whatever, I’m good you know?” The first hint of embarrassment, gone practically immediately as Derek pushed himself up so that he could look into Stiles’ eyes. “What?” It was so hard to concentrate when he had Derek’s complete and utter attention on him—who the hell had eyes that were _that_ intense? It was ridiculous and he would be telling Derek so as soon as he managed to breathe without sounding asthmatic. 

“You wanna fuck me Stiles?” There was more than a hint of fang, a glint of glowing yellow in Derek’s gaze that made Stiles want to bare his throat in submission. Then the words sank in and he knew his mouth had dropped open.

“Me fuck you?” He recognised that facial expression—the one that said ‘d’uh yeah’ and ‘oh Stiles, you’re such an idiot’ all at the same time—but he felt he could be forgiven. 

“Why not? Unless you don’t want to?”

“What? Of course I freakin’ want to—like, you have no idea how much I want to although you might because yeah, I think my dick might explode if you say much more. I just—I think, I thought the first time you would do me. If that’s okay?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, the moon’s high and you gotta be feeling that influence so I think your wolf would prefer to be a bit more dominant to start with. And if we take the edge off then maybe I won’t shoot off like a cannon and when we go again, then yeah, we can maybe switch it around!”

“Think you’ve got the stamina to go more than once do you?”

“Er, teenage person here! Might be eighteen but the operative section there is ‘teen’. I guaran-damn-tee you I’ll be—oh my God!” Because somehow in the middle of that conversation, Derek had slicked his fingers with lube and unerringly found Stiles’ asshole, stroking around the rim and pressing gently so that Stiles completely forgot what he’d been saying. Derek shifted his body to the side so that he lay alongside Stiles on the bed, pressed against him the whole way but no longer holding him down. He shifted so that he was leaning over Stiles, watching him with obvious care.

“Okay?” Staring up into Derek’s eyes whilst his fingers entered Stiles’ body felt so incredibly intimate, but Stiles couldn’t drag his gaze away, nodding whilst nibbling at his lower lip as he adjusted to the sensations. He’d done this to himself before but this was the first time someone else was touching him like this and it was strange. Good strange, but strange nevertheless. “Want me to stop, slow down?” He shook his head vigorously, clenching experimentally around the finger sliding inside his body and smirking as he watched the effect his actions had on Derek’s facial expression. 

“More. Faster.” He got more and faster, finally unable to maintain eye contact as his head flew back at the feel of long, strong fingers **inside** him, stroking the hotspot of his prostate before sliding out to tease and rub at his rim until he felt like he was going insane. His dick was so hard it was almost painful, longing to be touched but aware that it might mean the end of everything because he was just so damned close to done. His hands were clutching at Derek frantically, needing to be holding him so that he felt grounded because this was out of this damned world. The angles were completely different, Derek’s fingers touching him in ways he’d never managed to touch himself and just like that he was on the edge. But he didn’t want to go over alone—how the hell had it all gotten so out of control so quickly? “Derek..”

“Wanna watch you come Stiles—watch as I open you up with my fingers, feel how soft and warm you are inside. Come on—jerk off for me, I want to see how you do it, want to watch.” He could do nothing but obey, staring into Derek’s possessive face as he took his dick in hand and began the familiar motions that were made brand new by the addition of Derek’s fingers in his ass, the press of Derek’s body alongside his on the bed, the sound of Derek’s voice in his ear. “So beautiful—look at your long fingers wrapped around your dick. I’ve been dreaming of your fingers inside me—feeling them stretch me open so I can take you. Want to feel you holding me down while you fuck me. Do you want that Stiles—want to hold me down and fuck me? Be the first one to ever be inside me, own me, mark me as yours?” 

“I—please, please, please—oh God, I can’t—“ He knew he was practically incoherent, his brain providing the imagery to match Derek’s words so that he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer. Tighter grip, faster movements, could feel Derek’s fingers in his ass stroking, pressing, rubbing. 

“Come on Stiles, come on. I can feel how tight your balls are—Jesus fuck, but you are so tight around my fingers. Can imagine what you’re gonna feel like around my dick—soft and hot and tight as I slide into you, get as deep as I can so that you’ll know that I own your ass—that you belong to me as much as I belong to you—come on Stiles, fucking come!” 

Everything whited out and he was adrift on pure sensation—muscles tightening, tightening then a gush of release so strong he felt like he was exploding. Derek’s voice was murmuring in his ear but he couldn’t distinguish any words—no thoughts in his mind as he let it all go. 

He had no idea if he’d passed out, how long he’d been out of it, but he opened to eyes to stare up at Derek holding himself over Stiles with one arm whilst he jerked off. Stiles stared with hungry eyes at the almost vicious jerking motions, the angry-red head of Derek’s dick sliding in and out of view through his large hand as he fucked his fist.

“Fuck yeah, come all over me—“ He barely even realised he’d uttered the words out loud before Derek gave a guttural cry and did just that, the splatter of his come hitting Stiles’ chest and abdomen loud. “Oh my fucking—“ So freaking hot watching, seeing how vulnerable Derek allowed himself to be, holding himself up on one shaking arm so that he could squeeze the last of his come out of his cock before dropping down onto Stiles body. And then they were kissing, deep, hungry kisses as their bodies moved together, rubbing their combined mess of their come into each other so that they sharp heady scent of sex was all that either of them could smell. The kisses slowed down, became gentler even whilst the underlying throb of desire was still most obviously there. Stiles pulled back gently, looking into Derek’s eyes and smiling at how soft and gentle they looked—how relaxed he seemed. However hard this last year had been, it had obviously done some good because Derek looked—Derek looked happy. He liked how it looked, was determined that that facial expression would be one he grew very familiar with, whether they did it here or back in Beacon Hills. “So, I got your post card…."

**Author's Note:**

> Taming the Muse Prompt : Arsenal  
> Writing week : 63
> 
> Evil sods would not let me write this until the 11th hour - I literally just beat the deadline for Taming the Muse. Hope it was worth the wait, especially as they didn't actually get to full on sexing - my bad!


End file.
